Childhood 'Love'
by Tamashi.no.Koe
Summary: Fuji tried to be kind, but all they every got was a big disappointment. 'Saa...I'm sorry, but...I really don't think I'm the right person for you.' The girl would run away, crying. Fuji would watch. He would make himself watch.


**CHILDHOOD 'LOVE'**

Fuji had had his fair share of 'love' in his childhood years.

Once, after he had attended his first wedding at the age of five--he couldn't remember who had been getting married, exactly; some distant relative, most likely--he had gone home and announced that when he grew up, he was going to marry Yumiko nee-san.

And he couldn't understand why everyone laughed after he'd said it.

"Syusuke," his mother said to him kindly, "Only boys and girls who are in love get married." She put her arm around his father's waist. "Like tou-san and I."

Fuji smiled back brightly. "I do love nee-san. I get her a cup of milk every night like kaa-san gets tou-san's coffee in the morning. Nee-san loves me too. She bakes me cookies all the time."

It really puzzled him why they just laughed louder.

"Syusuke, I love you, but not in that way," Yumiko tried to explain fondly. "When you're in love, you think about that person all the time and to you, they're the best in the whole world…hm, you'll understand when you grow up."

Fuji nodded earnestly. Yumiko nee-san was ten and she knew everything, after all.

And so he gave up wanting to marry her.

When he entered elementary school, he was an instant hit.

Even at a young age, he was very, very good looking. Coupled with his graceful tennis talent, his open, outgoing nature and his warm smile, all the prettiest, cutest girls in his classes were out to get him.

In third grade, he met blonde, blue-eyed Seiko. Seiko was the funniest, bonniest girl in around, and she made Fuji laugh with her jokes and antics.

He thought she was really nice.

"Ne, Fuji-kun…" she said shyly to him one day. "Will you be my boyfriend?"

Fuji was really pleased. Maybe he didn't think about her _all _the time, but he did think about her a lot when he was with her. And perhaps he didn't like her best in the _whole world_, but she was his favorite out of all the girls in class.

"Yes, please," Fuji said happily.

For a while after that day, the two had sat together during lunchtimes, sharing their food--not that there was much difference between his peanut butter sandwich and hers, but they shared halves anyway--or else walking slowly across the playground, their small hands clasped.

This was love, Fuji convinced himself. He was _in love_ with Seiko-chan.

She was in love with him too, he was sure. Every time they met one of her friends or one of his, Seiko would call out, "Look, Syu-kun's my boyfriend, see?"

The other girls would look, and watch Seiko enviously. The other boys would see, and watch Fuji enviously.

Fuji found this rather gratifying at first, but after about two weeks, he begun to be a little bit bothered by it. "Sei-chan," he tried to say once, "A lot of people already know I'm your boyfriend. Maybe you should stop telling them like that…"

"But I want _everyone_ to know," Seiko pouted. "Don't you like being my boyfriend, Syu-kun?"

"Aa…of course I do," he replied. He'd never had the heart to tell her that sometimes, her shrill voice jarred his eardrums rather badly when she squealed her news.

Loving boyfriends should make allowances for their girlfriends' shortcomings, he thought. And besides, Seiko did make him very happy most of the time.

He just decided that maybe, he preferred quiet girls in general.

Then, one day, Fuji waited for Seiko at their usual lunch table, but she never showed up. Fuji ate his lunch alone, sadly, and when he still didn't see any sign of her, he begun to worry and looked around for the girl.

There she was, sitting quite cheerfully at another table.

"Sei-chan!" He ran up to her joyfully. "I've found you! Why didn't you come eat lunch with me today?" he asked.

She chewed her jelly sandwich. "I don't want to eat lunch with you anymore."

Fuji's face fell. "Ne, why not? Aren't I your…your boyfriend?"

"Not anymore." Seiko shook her head, making her golden curls bounce. "Taro-kun's my boyfriend now." She clutched the arm of the boy sitting next to her, the striking boy whom Fuji recognized as a new transferee.

'Taro-kun' looked up, and grinned sheepishly at Fuji, but put his hand firmly over Seiko's. He had pale golden hair to match hers, and the same blue eyes. For the first time, Fuji felt very conscious of how skinny his arms were, next to Taro's well defined--for his age, at least--muscles.

Fuji waited, but Seiko didn't seem to have any intention of changing her mind.

And…

He hated to admit it, but the two blondes really did look more like a couple than he and Seiko had.

Fuji left the table without a word.

No more did he snack or roam the school grounds with Seiko. Instead, it was Taro who held her hand and shared her food, Taro whom she announced to everyone she knew as her boyfriend.

Fuji watched, forgotten, from the shadows.

Eventually, Taro found a girl he even prettier than Seiko, and Fuji watched as he brushed Seiko aside, time after time, arm linked with his new 'girlfriend'.

Seiko hadn't been happy about that.

She came back, asking to be Fuji's girlfriend again.

Fuji tried to be sympathetic. He handed her a tissue when she cried.

But he refused.

He refused her, and every girl who had approached him ever since.

He met many very beautiful, very amusing, very talented and attractive girls after that. Some of them even claimed to love him.

Even though Fuji tried to be kind, all they ever got in the end was a big disappointment.

"Saa…I'm sorry, but…I really don't think I'm the right person for you."

The girl would run away, crying.

Fuji would watch. He would _make_ himself watch. Because watching, and hurting, was the only way he could make it up to the poor girl, to confront the pain he had caused her, and to feel that pain afresh.

It was hard. But he forced himself to do it.

Of course, now that he thought back, he knew that what he'd felt for Seiko hadn't been love. But for all the pain the relationship--whatever it had been--had caused him, it might as well have been love.

And he needed to remember how it felt to be toyed with, and then tossed aside. He needed to remember what it was like to want to run and cry.

That way he could keep himself from repeating his mistakes. And hopefully, he would be saving others a good deal of misery in the long run.

And so, he watched them run.

And so, he watched their tears fall to the ground.

He felt for them, hurt for them. He felt as wretched, as miserable and unwanted as each and every girl he sent away in that fashion.

In short, he felt terrible.

Which was his point exactly.

On some days, seeing those retreating girls, he saw Seiko.

On other days, he saw himself.


End file.
